


Right Road Home

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-26
Updated: 2006-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Home is where the heart is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Road Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dysis](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dysis).



Trowa had never been lost before. Not really. He'd had a sense of who he was and his purpose when he'd had no proper name to call his own. Even when he'd lost his memory and wandered, before Cathy found him and brought him back to the circus, there had been that sense of himself. The core that didn't need a name to identify itself as Trowa Barton, Nanashi or Triton Bloom. It was just him and that was enough.

Now, things were different; the peace they'd fought for was won even though the price both sides had paid had been heavy. The Gundams were destroyed and, with careful work at the hands of people like Relena Peacecraft, the need for soldiers like himself was a thing of the past. They could live their lives and be regular people. The problem was Trowa didn't know how to do that. He didn't have a life before he had become a soldier to go back to, his own personal niche in society.

True, he had a place in the circus if he wanted it. Cathy and the manager had made it clear that they considered him family and he was touched that they cared. But he'd been at the circus since the end of the first eve war and the feeling of being lost was growing, not stilling. Being back undercover hadn't helped, nor had fighting in Heavyarms. He'd been sure that was what was wrong. The transition from being a soldier to being a civilian making itself known in his psyche. But if that was the case, then why did having a gun in his hand not make things any better?

Once again his mind went back to the invitation Quatre had issued before he left, an offer to spend some time on L4 while Trowa figured out what the world had to offer him and more importantly, what he had to offer it. He'd taken a lot from the world, killed and maimed with barely a second thought because that was what he did. Casualties were an inevitability of war, something to avoid being so you could fight another day. Things were different now. He was different. It was time to make amends and find his own personal peace.

Maybe that was what he should do; go to L4 and spend some time with Quatre. He'd been there before when Quatre was convalescing after the first eve war. Quatre had asked Trowa to make the trip with him and Trowa hadn't even considered saying no. Instead he had watched and waited until his friend was back in the arms of his family, safe and cared for, before he'd left to return to the circus. He didn't belong there no matter what Quatre had said. Trowa had felt awkward and out of a place, a weed in a beautifully tended garden.

There had been something between himself and Quatre, Trowa thought. A hint of feelings running deeper than the friendship they shared. Trowa had been unsure of them, of himself, so he had left. Despite Quatre's obvious disappointment, and the heaviness in his heart, Trowa had turned and walked away, just like he had the first time he'd accepted Quatre's hospitality, only this time he didn't have the excuse of having a mission to complete.

Squaring his shoulders, Trowa forced himself to face his fears with as much courage as he'd met OZ soldiers and mobile dolls. The unvarnished truth was he had felt comfortable and safe with Quatre, even if his life was overwhelming. The lost feeling and sense that something was missing had begun after he'd left. Unbidden, his eyes went to the sky overhead. Somewhere out there was L4 and Quatre waited for him.

Rising, he brushed the grass from the seat of his pants and begun to walk towards his trailer. He knew now what was wrong. Why the feelings kept getting worse. The circus wasn't home as he had previously thought. But now, he knew where; no, who, was.


End file.
